


The Elegance of a Gun

by M_L_Davis



Series: The Masterpiece of Will Shaw [2]
Category: The Cold Light of Day (2012)
Genre: Gun Handling, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_L_Davis/pseuds/M_L_Davis
Summary: The Shaws are in a new house and Martin decides it's time to teach the kids how to protect themselves. He starts with Will and discovers his son has a secret.





	The Elegance of a Gun

* * *

 

“Feet apart, set them. Shoulders straight. Come on, get them up a little. Kid, the gun’s going back into your chest if you hold it like that.”

Martin rolls his eyes when despite his best efforts, his son refuses to change his position and the gun nearly kicks out of his hands when he fires it.

Thank fuck for blanks.

He barks at Will, and the boy startles so much that he fumbles and almost drops the gun.

Martin shoves him back, plucking the weapon from him. “Get back to the truck.”

Will scampers away without looking back. Martin knows he’s already tearing up.

The kid’s so damn sensitive. He blames Laurie for that, always babying him. She won’t let him tease him the way he teases Josh.

In fact, anytime he starts in on Will, Laurie, as if she has a second sense, comes running and whisks him away.

The last time he’d spent any father-son time with Will had been a few months ago when he’d taken him spear fishing. The kid was terrible, no depth perception, no sense of self-preservation. He’d almost taken his own foot off and then cried because Martin had yelled at him.

It is a common theme and has been ever since Josh came along. As soon as he had a younger brother, it’s like Will didn’t want his father anymore.

Of course, Martin isn’t often around anyway, too busy with his job, with…other things. So what little time he has at home, he tries to divide among his wife and children equally.

Martin unloads the gun and takes it apart, setting each piece back in the case. Once that is done, he counts to ten and then walks back to his truck.

Will isn’t in the front seat, and Martin has a flare of panic until he notices that the blanket usually covering the backseat isn’t on the backseat but instead tossed carelessly to the floor.

Martin opens the door, pries open the interior panel, and yanks the blanket off his son.

Will squirms away, rubbing at his face, one hand pressed over his mouth as if he’s stifling his sobs.

He’s not fooling anyone, and Martin grabs his leg to haul him out of the vehicle. He only means to put Will in the front seat so that it will be easier to talk to him about what he did wrong, but the boy begins kicking, screaming hysterically, and he pisses himself too.

“What the hell…?” Martin doesn’t have time to be angry because right now, his eleven year old son is still fighting even though he let go a long time ago.

The sobs turn into pleading, and Martin stares in horror at his son, begging for someone to stop, that he doesn’t want to, that he’s sorry.

Martin remembers a young girl he’d found during a recon mission. She’d said almost exactly the same words. She’d been prostituted, raped for years.

She’d thought he was going to do the same. His _son_ thinks that he’s going to do the same.

“Who hurt you?” he murmurs, leaning in close, rewarded when Will throws his arms around him and cries into his neck. Hot tears and snot stick to his skin. Revulsion wars with his need to make sure his son is okay.

“You’re okay. Everything’s fine.” Martin has always sucked at bedside manners. He hadn’t been able to comfort the little girl. Carrack had had to do that. Martin wishes his partner was here. She would know what to say, how to get Will to calm down.

Will wuffles, hiccuping a little on the exhale.

“Hey,” Martin says. He stands up, Will cradled to his chest. “Hey, everything’s okay.” He doesn’t know if Will believes him or if he’s just cried himself out, but he lets Martin put down a plastic bag and tuck him into the front seat.

“Ready to go home?”

Will doesn’t answer. His head lolls, limbs loose. Martin buckles him in and shuts the door.

Martin spends the ride back into town trying to decide if he should go to the police or just interrogate his son until he reveals his abuser so that he can track them down and kill them himself.

Will is still sleeping when they pull into the driveway of the new house. Martin sighs. He should go to the police, but he also knows that he shouldn’t push his son. If he’s not careful, the demonstration Will just had will be a walk in the park.

No, what he needs isn’t police or vigilante justice; it’s a psychiatrist.

He carries Will into the house. Laurie materializes by his elbow.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Martin shakes his head. “Just a warm bath.” He sees Josh peeking over the couch. “Why don’t you go get your brother some clean clothes?”

Laurie puts her hand out to stop them. “Martin, what happened? What’s wrong with my son?”

Martin shakes his head again. This isn’t a joke or a game or something to tease Will about. It’s also something that Will should tell them when he’s ready. Or at least his mother. Martin is going to try to figure out who he needs to kill once he knows his son is stable. For now, he needs a bath, new clothes. The comfort of family.

Will rouses finally when Martin begins stripping his wet clothes off. It starts him crying again, and no amount of placating stops him. When he sees his mother, he cries harder, clinging to Martin with a strength not unlike an adrenaline rush.

He wonders if that means that his abuser was a woman.

“Honey, why don’t you go wait with Josh?”

Laurie refuses right up until Will scratches her, begging again for them to stop. She backs away, aghast, hand pressed to her mouth as she watches while Martin plops him into the water and steps back.

Will seems to understand then that they aren’t going to hurt him, and he quiets, chest still heaving from his frantic crying.

He washes his face and then just sits there.

Martin tugs Laurie out of the bathroom and sends Josh in. He hopes that Josh will get Will to talk, but he also needs to discuss their options with his wife.

“Therapist,” Laurie says at the same time Martin says, “Psychiatrist.”

“A therapist first,” Laurie says. “A psychiatrist if that doesn’t help or if the therapist thinks he should see one.”

“Agreed.”

“What happened? Why is he like this now?”

Martin shrugs. Honestly, he hasn’t seen a change in Will’s behavior, but then again, he isn’t home enough to really notice any issues either.

“I’ll get it arranged,” Laurie says. “You…just try to keep him calm.”

“I’ll try.” Martin doesn’t know how he’s supposed to tell his wife that she may never be able to hug her son again. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to comfort his son either.

He’ll just have to muddle through. Idly, he wonders if Carrack would be any good at this.

Maybe she can help him with Will.

He’ll talk to her later, after he’s gotten Will settled. He wonders what kind of reaction his son will have to her.

It won’t be good, that’s for sure.

* * *

 


End file.
